


Do Whatever You Want, I'm Super Dead

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Author is not trans, Cramps, Gen, Good Bro Jason Todd, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Menstruation, Periods, Prompt: Internal Bleeding, This is very indulgent, Trans Male Character, Trans Tim Drake, Whumptober 2020, also tim and steph are dating in this but it's a very minor thing, but a very loose interpretation of that, i'm just projecting onto these kids now, like VERY indulgent, so feel free to ignore it if you just want them to be best friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: Tim has come to the stunning conclusion that human bodies aredefectiveand evolution needs to pick up the fucking slack.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948297
Comments: 11
Kudos: 308





	Do Whatever You Want, I'm Super Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Whump Day 10: "Internal Bleeding" hehe
> 
> (I wrote this like ten days ahead because I was crampy and needed to project onto these folks lmao.)

****Tim has come to the stunning conclusion that human bodies are _defective_ and evolution needs to pick up the fucking slack. Why else would he be this miserable?   
  
Tim is settled in the manor’s TV room, curled up on the comfiest sofa in the house. He’s on his third episode of _Riverdale_ in a row—not because he enjoys the show, definitely not. But he lost the remote under the couch some three hours ago and if he moves even an inch from his current position, he’s sure he will bleed out and die.   
  
Tim should have been prepared for this. For two days now he’s been crampy, but he figured it was just a stomachache and ignored it. Like an idiot. He let himself get lulled into the false sense of security like a helpless lamb being led right into the slaughterhouse. Needless to say, he learned his lesson when he woke up this morning feeling like his insides were being torn out with rusty pliers.   
  
Of everyone in the household, (which pretty much just means Cass and occasionally Barbara and Steph), Tim gets the worst periods by far. Yes, that _is_ incredibly unfair and he is seriously considering selling his entire reproductive system for ten dollars on Ebay just to be rid of it. Bruce says he can get the surgery when he turns eighteen, but Tim would rather wait a few years than be put out of commission for such a long stretch of time.   
  
This is making him regret that decision, though.   
  
It’s bad enough that every time Tim does a tampon run he has to look at that stupid “feminine care” aisle sign, like it’s accusing him of something. (And, yes, he knows that statistically there are _far_ more cis women in the world who have periods than trans men, but still. Not fun.)   
  
To make matters worse, Tim couldn’t find his heating pad anywhere and didn’t feel like tearing apart his room for it, so instead he presses a hot thermos of coffee against his stomach, willing the cramps to subside. (Spoiler alert! They don’t. Tim’s body hates him.)   
  
Speaking of spoilers: “You’re doing the next food run after this,” Steph says as she enters the room. She’s got a bowl of hot mashed potatoes in each hand. She places one on the armrest next to Tim and snuggles into the nearby armchair with her own. “I almost blew up the stove.”   
  
Tim sits up a little, replaces the thermos in his lap with the warm bowl of potatoes. He’s _starving._ “You’re the best, Steph.”   
  
“Fuck you.”   
  
“So grouchy.”   
  
“I have a right to be.”   
  
“Come on, I’m too cute and crampy to be mad at. Also you’re currently in _my_ house, so you have to be nice to me.”   
  
Steph throws an aptly named throw pillow at him. This one has the quote, “World Peace Begins With Inner Peace” stitched on the front—one of Alfred’s futile attempts at abolishing bickering in the household. Poor guy never stood a chance.   
  
“You did this to me,” she hisses.   
  
“How was I supposed to know we’d sync up? It was an innocent oversight on my part. Couldn’t be helped.”

“Jerk.”   
  
If Tim is a lamb in a slaughterhouse, then Jason is a kangaroo stepping into a boxing ring with two other, just as aggressive kangaroos. Tim didn’t even know he was at the manor today. Jay takes one look at Tim, burrowed under two blankets in a fetal position, and laughs. “Did the demon finally poison you?”   
  
“Har, har. You’re fucking hilarious.”   
  
Jason flops on the couch by Tim’s feet, probably would have crushed them if Tim didn’t move them out of the way just in time. Jason reaches over and steals Tim’s mashed potatoes like the absolute villain he is. He takes a bite, then gestures with his spoon to the television. “Why are you watching this crap?”   
  
Tim snatches the bowl back and smacks Jason in the arm for good measure. “Can’t find the remote.”   
  
“So? I thought you were a genius. Just hack into the TV or something. What else are we keeping you around for?”   
  
Tim shakes his head and eats his potatoes, uncaring when they scald his tongue. “Too tired.”   
  
“Are you sick?”   
  
“No, but my organs are melting.”   
  
Steph snorts. “And you called me grouchy.”   
  
“Oh, yeah? Says Miss “wahhhh, my boyfriend sabotaged me even though it’s actually not his fault at all and he’s just trying to live his life.’”   
  
“You did this to me on purpose and you _know it._ I was supposed to have another week and a half, but _nooo,_ you had to take the reins and change it up. I have an _English presentation_ tomorrow.”   
  
“I said I was sorry!”   
  
“Are you guys serious?” All eyes snap to Jason. “It’s just PMS. Get over it.”   
  
Tim slams his foot into Jason’s stomach as hard as he can. Jason lets out a wheeze and doubles over. _“Jesus._ What the hell was that for?”   
  
“Leg spasm,” Tim says innocently. “My bad.”   
  
“You bruised my fucking _kidney,_ you little ingrate.”   
  
“Oh, you’re in a little bit of pain? _Get over it.”_   
  
“That was a _joke.”_ Jason rubs the forming bruise with a wince. “I didn’t ask for a demonstration.”   
  
Tim eats his mashed potatoes and does his best to ignore Jason. He’s miserable enough today as it is; he doesn’t need his brother adding on to that misery. He gets hit with another cramp and grimaces, curling in on himself as tight as he can. _So_ not fair.   
  
Jason stands and goes to the kitchen, leaving Tim alone on the sofa. He takes advantage of the free space and stretches out his legs across the full length again, biting back what is definitely _not_ a whimper. Look, having a uterus fucking hurts, okay? Tim can take a gunshot any day, but his own _body_ attacking him is just uncalled for. Whoever decided that anyone with XX chromosomes deserves to be put through pain as a regular part of life while the other sex doesn’t should be lined up and shot.   
  
Jason returns in seconds, this time with a chocolate bar that Tim vaguely remembers seeing in Jason’s junk food stash behind the microwave. He throws it at Tim, who fumbles to catch it. “Here. Am I absolved of guilt now?”   
  
Tim considers that for a moment. He gives the chocolate to Steph, who tears off the wrapper and wolfs the entire thing down in record time. She should be a gold medalist in eating. “Not much of a chocolate fan,” Tim admits. “It’s too sweet.”   
  
“Then what do you want?”   
  
“I like money.”   
  
“Why the fuck would I give you money? You’ve got PMS, you’re not dying.”   
  
“It’s like buying me another candy bar, but instead of buying the candy you can just give me the cash. Cut out the middleman.”   
  
Jason rolls his eyes. “This is what I get for trying to be nice.”   
  
“Fine, fine. If you want to buy me food, can you get some guacamole from that place next to Wayne Tower? The one with the really good quesadillas? I don’t want any quesadillas, though, just the guacamole in a to-go cup with a spoon.”   
  
Steph holds up two fingers. “Make that two,” she says around a mouthful of chocolate.   
  
“Two guacamoles. And maybe a handful of those chewy mints they have at the front counter too.”   
  
Jason sighs, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch. “Coming right up. But you two owe me for this.”   
  
Tim burrows deeper under his blankets, smiling. Yes, they can be annoying. Yes, they are utterly hopeless when it comes to things like this. But sometimes it pays to have brothers.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
